Manners, Always
by BertieTodd
Summary: Effie comes to ask a favor of Haymitch, who is a bit reluctant to help. Will certain events change his mind? M for a reason, people. Hayffie goodness, with a touch of fluff!


A/N: Hey guys! This is my very first Hayffie fic, so please, friends, don't hate too vigorously. I'm officially infatuated with the pairing. I know I made up a bit, but please, bear with me. WARNING: SPOILERS ABOUND! *Clears throat* Alright, let the Games begin!

Disclaimers: I own nothing but the fic itself. Don't sue me!

The impossibly loud ring of the silver phone on my wall shook me from my drunken stupor. My hand reached clumsily for the source of the sound, and I groaned when a familiar, feminine voice met my ears.

"Haymitch." It wasn't a greeting, nor was it affirmation. It sounded to me like a demand.

"Effie." I slurred, taking on the same serious tone. 'Whatcha want?" I instantly regretted my harshness when I realized her voice was thick with tears. If something could break the always-proper Ms. Trinket down to a blubbering mess, it must be important enough for me to hear.

She didn't seem perturbed by this brash behavior, expected it even. "Are you busy right now?"

I sighed. "It's 3 in the morning, sweetheart. I definitely wasn't sleeping, or anything. Can it wait?"

"I don't think so. I need to see you." she paused, sniffling a bit, "I mean, to talk, About something important. The phones are likely tapped into, though, or I'd tell you right now."

Well, it was about time she'd found some good sense. "Fine." I mumbled, clutching an aching head. "Come over, but be quiet about it." Without a reply from the Capitol woman, I hung up the phone, and covered my head with my pillow. Damned woman, calling me in the middle of the night. She probably broke a nail, or something. Despite my bickering, a tiny bit of me was actually glad for her company tonight. The last girl I had over, about a month ago, was a quiet thing from my District. She got fed up with me for the constant drinking, and left without a backward glance. We had spent a few nights together; on my bed, on the couch, on the messy floor-but were never compatible in any sort of real relationship. Except for Katniss, Peeta, and that 'Gale' kid, no one bothered to visit me. Even a stuck-up, nosy Capitol-nothing would be better than the perpetual silence. And with Effie around, there definitely wouldn't be any silence.

The Capitol's system of transportation was always ridiculously fast; no one around there had the patience for normal pace. It was only about two hours later when I heard a quick 'tap…tap…tap' on the door. Groaning, I rose to my feet, staggering to find the door. The hallway seemed a million miles long, and I looked around at the swaying room, trying to get my bearings. Another impatient knock. I swung the door open with a frustrated,

"What?"

Her eyes were red and weepy, exactly how I'd imagined when she called. Her layer of white powder had tiny tear tracks leading to her perfectly-pouted purple lips. For a second, I even felt sorry for her.

"May…may I come in?" she asked, her voice shaking and fragile. She looked so much smaller, standing there in the lightly falling rain. A suitcase sat upon the ground, and somewhere in the back of my mind, it registered that she planned to stay for a while. At the moment, I was too tired to care, really.

"Sure." I grabbed the suitcase with one hand; what did she pack in that thing? I could have sworn it weighed half a ton. She followed me to my miserable excuse for a bedroom, disdain obvious on her painted features, despite the tears. I dumped the bag unceremoniously on the bed, eliciting a tiny squeak of protest from Effie. Sitting on the rumpled, alcohol-stained, unmade bed, I gestured for her to sit beside me. Smoothing her pin-straight fuchsia skirt, she wrinkled her nose as she sat. She was situated a great distance from me, obviously avoiding me.

"So?"

"So?" she wondered, blinking those baby-blue, teary eyes at me.

"So, what'd you need to talk to me for?"

She collected a deep breath, her chest filling out her corseted suit jacket. I tried not to think about that as I listened to her explanation.

"The Games…" she managed, choking up again, "They're starting again…President Coin wanted…Capitol children…my niece as Tribute…help me, oh, help me, please!" She gave into another round of tears as I began to make sense of her words. Her niece, a Capitol girl, was chosen for the new Games. I felt so awkward sitting there, unable to think of anything to say. If she knew I had agreed to that, to let Capitol kids be reaped, then she wouldn't be asking for my help. As she gave into her sobs, her manicured hands reached out for me, and I did the best I could to wrap my arms around her. She was crying against my chest, practically sitting on my lap. I resisted the urge to push her off.

Eventually, her crying subsided, and she seemed to realize what she was doing,

"I…I'm so sorry, Haymitch." She untangled herself from my hesitant arms, standing awkwardly beside the bed. "I thought…of all people, you would understand."

I sighed deeply, feeling a tiny ripple of guilt travel up my spine.

"Sure, Effie. I understand. Now, you should get some sleep." I patted the messy bed, getting out of her way.

"Thank you." she whispered as I walked out the door. Always polite. I made my way to the couch, flopping exhaustedly upon it. How long was she planning to stay, anyway? What was I supposed to do about her Capitol problems? I fell asleep with these questions in mind.

A while later, a shrill scream woke me, and I hurried to the bedroom. She was still asleep, though she was restless. Just a nightmare, then. Great. Now I'm technically losing sleep over this woman. I sat beside her again, placing a hand on her shoulder and shaking her awake. She yelped in surprise when she saw me there.

"It was just a nightmare." I told her, but she was still trembling. "Go back to sleep."

"I can't." she whined, and I noticed for the first time that she had taken her makeup off. Her skin was smooth and fair, though not as pale as it had been. Her hair was out of the wig, and hung in platinum blonde ringlets. Definitely not what I expected. She was actually…pretty. In a non-Capitol sort of way.

"I guess I really wasn't planning on sleeping, anyway." I grumbled, and sat beside her. Instantly, she pulled up the covers to her neck. I wondered what she wore to bed, all sorts of devious ideas running through my mind. From the cabinet nearest the bed, I grabbed a bottle of rum, pulling the cork and taking a swig. I offered the bottle to her, nearly laughing at her reaction. Effie shyly took the bottle from me, wiping off the mouth with her fingers. Daintily, she took the smallest of sips, and almost choked. I rolled my eyes.

"Hold on a sec." I left to grab two glasses from the kitchen, and returned. She was sitting up now, the covers still over her waist, but now I could see the top of a very lacey pink shirt. Pouring her a glass, I asked her mockingly,

"You got this?"

"Of course I have." She then proceeded to empty the entire glass in one gulp. To her credit, she didn't sputter or choke this time, and instead just grinned smugly, as if to say, "So there!" I laughed as I finished my own drink, watching amusedly as she poured a second.

"Careful there." I warned, but she didn't really listen. When she slammed the glass down on the bedside table triumphantly, I could tell her head was reeling. Feeling indecent already, I stood to leave, but she begged,

"No! Stay here!" Up to this point in my life, I would have to say that her Capitol accent, squeaky and slurred by only two drinks, was the funniest thing I had ever heard.

"Fine." I agreed, sliding into the bed. I wasn't planning to get under the covers, but she insisted I would freeze, otherwise. When I was covered, I noticed how close we were lying, her cold, smooth, bare legs against my leg. At this point, I wasn't sure whether I wanted to back away, or move closer. She decided that for me when she tucked her head into the crook of my arm, resting her blonde curls against my neck. I inhaled sharply, unsure what signs she was giving me. I mean, with anyone else, my next actions would be obvious, but this was Effie Trinket. It was hard to say if she had ever been this close with anyone. I doubted it. She was far too proper for that.

I could tell, now, that she was wearing a tiny nightgown, mostly lace and revealing. I tried to repress such thoughts as I held her, as her hand found its way into my shirt, and her breathing slowed to sleep.

The next morning, I was awoken by a harsh slap across the face, followed by a furious, "Haymitch Abernathy! Get up this instant!"

I sat up, alarmed, to see a very angry Effie, hand poised as though she was preparing to slap me again.

"What'd I do?" I asked, as memories of last night came rushing back, along with a fierce headache.

"You…and I…and, how can you even call yourself a human being!" She attempted to accuse me.

"Wha-?"

"Last night. Explain why I woke up _**in your arms**_! You just thought if you got me drunk enough…"

I cut her off right there. "Oh, no. Slow down. Nothing happened."

"Mhm. How can I be sure of that, Mr. Abernathy?"

"Cause I wouldn't ever-_**ever**_-do anything with you." What? She was asking for it. Her face turned tomato red, anger and embarrassment coloring her unpainted face.

"The nerve of you!" she squealed, grabbing her suitcase and stomping from the room.

"Are you finally leaving?" I called after her.

"Hmph. As much as I would love to escape your very ungentlemanly company, I still require your help." She was mostly talking to herself, it seemed, as she continued to blabber on, long after she had closed the bathroom door. If I had to wait for her to apply all her clown-makeup, I was gonna be waiting forever. Deciding to write her a note, I scribbled down a quick, "Going out. Be back in an hour. Stay here." Pulling on a pair of boots, I left the house before she could lecture me for wearing the same clothes I had on yesterday…and the day before.

Strangely, I felt bad about leaving her there, but I really needed to buy a few things. For example, there was hardly any food in the house, not that I could cook. I remembered, from all the Games I've mentored in, how extravagant the Capitol's food is, and I figured anything I could possibly find in the District wouldn't be good enough. As my boots crunched down the gravel path, I couldn't help but think that the townspeople were avoiding me. True, I didn't exactly have a golden reputation, but something felt…off. That's when I realized; they must know I had a Capitol woman living in my house. After President Snow died, and Coin took control, the Districts had less tolerance for Capitol citizens than ever before. I was an outcast, then. Aiding the enemy. Just great. Approaching the Hob, I was able to find some reasonable game to bring back, without spending all of my Victor money. Greasy Sae recognized me, but didn't wave back. I kept my eyes on the ground as I walked home.

Along the path, I heard a fight going on. A woman was screaming, and I tried to ignore the sounds of fists on skin. I knew I could break up the fight if I wanted to, but figured it was best not to get involved. It was only a matter of seconds before something inside me froze; it was Effie.

As fast as I could, I spun the corner to the next street, where a smallish group of District men had her thrown to the ground, wig in the dirt, and tears on her face. Why the hell did she have to follow me? I specifically told her to stay behind. Pushing through the group, I knelt beside her, shielding her from any more attacks.

"Stop!" I yelled. "She's with me." After a couple of angry and disturbed looks, the crowd subsided, and I helped the weeping woman to her feet. She clung to me as if she was drowning. "You alright?" I asked, noticing the purplish bruise already forming around her eye. She didn't answer, and instead, just clung to me more tightly. Shaken and frustrated, I picked her up, bridal-style, in my arms. The woman barely weighed anything. It wasn't that far to my house, so I just carried her the rest of the way back. She sobbed the whole time, not letting go, even after I had placed her gently on the couch. Her arms were still wrapped around my neck, and I just barely untangled myself to get a clean rag from the kitchen. I soaked it in some warm water before returning, and dabbing at the blood on her lip. The grey cloth came back with an interesting mixture of red, and a smear of her purple lipstick. Every time I touched her face with the rag, she cringed a little, and I felt like I was the one hurting her. It was her fault, not mine. She should have stayed. She should have stayed. As I pulled the cloth back, I couldn't stop myself from focusing in on her blue eyes, so shy under a veil of dark eyelashes. My own eyes flicked to her lips, pink and full. Tempting me. Before I could take in a breath of surprise, those perfect lips were on mine, gently, gauging my reaction. I pressed against her, acting on instinct rather than good sense. I tried to ignore my pounding heart; this shouldn't be happening. She made me want her. I knew she wanted me, too, and the thought was more intoxicating than all the alcohol I'd drunk in the last ten years. I wanted, needed more. And she let me. Her lips parted, ever so slightly, just enough, and I slipped my tongue between them. Effie tasted like strawberries. Her squeak of surprise was tangible against my mouth, but she didn't pull away. My hands were in her hair, tangling under her wig and into her real, soft blonde hair. Hers were around the back of my neck, pulling me in.

Just as suddenly as the kiss began, it ended, as both she and I were hopelessly out of breath. Her cheeks were stained red, and I felt my own getting very warm. I wasn't sure if she would want me to apologize, or confess some deep attraction for her, or what. In my confusion, I did what came naturally; I kissed her again. This time, we melded together like two crashing waves. She gasped into my mouth as I pushed her further onto the couch, covering her tiny body with mine. I tried to be careful with her possibly-broken ankle, but still, she winced in pain. Drawing myself off of her, I scooped her into my arms again and carried her to the bedroom. Her eyes were focused so intently on mine, daring me to stop, and begging me to continue. My breath caught in my throat as her gentle hand cupped the side of my face. Her other hand was deftly unbuttoning my shirt, which was a huge distraction as I tried to carry her. After the fourth button, she gave up, and settled fro smoothing her fingers over my chest. Was it possible she could make me want her even more?

Finally reaching the room, I plopped her on the bed, hovering over top of her as she began kissing a soft line along my neck. It was too much.

"Do you want this?" I had to ask.

Her lips stopped their trek along my body and whispered, "I want you…please."

So like Effie, always using her good manners. I immediately moved my attention to kissing her collarbones, as my hands untangled the ribbons that held her jacket on. I threw the no-doubt expensive thing on the floor, and Effie didn't even protest. Her skirt followed, as did her undershirt. All that she wore were her underclothes and tights, now. She flung my vest and shirt somewhere, and I watched in awe as those slender fingers set to work on my zipper. I almost ravished her then and there. Instead, I settled for tugging off the tight nylons, revealing her milky-pale smooth legs. My hands ran up their length, eliciting shivers from the beautiful woman beneath me. Those white legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer toward her until our bodies were flush. With a smirk, she flipped our positions so she was above me, dragging her manicured nails down my chest. Effie's fingers dipped below the waistband of the increasingly-tight boxers I wore, nudging them off. I was all too happy to oblige, throwing the garment to the floor. Immediately, her hands began to explore, over my length, my legs, until they gripped down. I wasn't expecting that. A low moan escaped my mouth involuntarily, and I saw through my heavily-lidded eyes that Effie was grinning. She was enjoying this delicious torture almost as much as I was. Almost. I couldn't wait any longer; I sat up, Effie in my lap. I kissed her forehead, wrapping my arms around her slender shoulders. Her blue eyes closed gently, long lashes fluttering against her crescent-moon cheeks. With the hand I hadn't tangled in her hair (the wig was long gone by now), I unclasped her pastel pink bra. She gasped a little, and I saw the quick rise and fall of her cream-smooth breasts. Effie was perfect, head to toe. She let me kiss the flesh down her neck, down the front of her chest, where my roaming hands massaged her skin. A soft sound left her lips, a plea for more, as she rolled her hips in my lap. I suddenly became aware that she was still wearing underpants, a fact I was desperate to change. My Effie allowed me to slide the clothes off her tiny legs as I bared her entire body. Nothing was separating me from her body, save from permission.

"Effie…" I whispered, my throat suddenly dry. I couldn't hold myself back much longer. Slowly, she lifted her small frame above me, positioning herself.

"Eff, come on." I begged, but she stayed where she was.

"Uh-uh, Haymitch," she said after a few more teasing moments, "Manners."

Oh, Effie. Really?

"Fine…please?" It was embarrassing how pathetic my voice sounded, how desperate and needy. In a second, Effie sat harshly on my lap, and I was suddenly enveloped in the tightest heat. Her fragile moan was almost enough to drive me to the edge, but I knew, for her sake, I had to hold on. I waited for her to nod her approval. When she finally did, I began to move, pulling out and pushing into her as she writhed against me, her bare chest rubbing across mine. The sounds she made were so erotic, I couldn't (even if I had wanted to) keep my hands from her body. One was at the small of her back as it arched. She threw her head back, panting my name, as she reached her highest height.

"HAYMITCH!"

That was all it took for me to follow, filling her with my essence. Her name was the last thing on my lips.

"Mnnggg…Effie!"When the tautness of her muscles had released, she moved gently off of me, lying beside me on the bed. Her big, blue eyes locked with mine as I leaned in for a goodnight kiss. She entangled her hand with mine as I pulled the covers over us both.

"Goodnight, love." she mumbled, as she drifted into a peaceful sleep. I smiled at her, sleeping like a Capitol angel, as I whispered,

"Goodnight, Eff. Love ya, sweetheart."


End file.
